


Sometimes It's Like This

by Silverwing26



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Ciel Phantomhive is a Brat, M/M, Oral Sex, Power Play, Sebastian Being An Asshole, Shota, sebastian POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He bends, but never breaks. He cracks, but never shatters, and sometimes the devil need work a bit more diligently to melt his cold, bitter, frozen little master.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes It's Like This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soulless_lover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/gifts).



Sometimes it is like this. My lips are pressed against his narrow chest, slipping lower towards his navel with the salty sweetness of his perspiration on my tongue. His hands are curled into the pillows beside his head and his thighs are barely parted widely enough to allow me to kneel between them. My small master’s cock is bobbing and dripping with need and his thin body shudders with each shallow breath he steals.

For sometimes it is like this, with his eyes screwed shut against the glowing embers of my gaze and his perfect teeth biting crescents into his bottom lip. His cries are cut off to me; he stifles them, fighting with his own urges, with the pleasure coursing through his thin little body. His back arches, pressing his navel to my mouth, and my tongue dips inside, dragging a ragged groan from between his teeth, imprisoning those sounds which he knows I crave. 

Sometimes it is like this, where the smell of his arousal is spiced with the weight of his pride. He will not look at me, he will not cry out, because he knows once he hears his own .pleasure-broken voice and sees the burning hellfire in these eyes which devour him with so much fervor, that he will be lost. 

He is a cruel and flinty Master, demanding more and more through his silence. “You are mine,” I growl against his abdomen, and I see his skin prickle into gooseflesh. I feel his body tense for a moment as I lick down his body, and lap at the tender skin at the junction of his thigh. He is delightfully sensitive and he shivers before an irritated sound leaves his mouth. 

He breaks his silence long enough to tell me to shut up, and then his hips push upwards into my mouth. My eyes narrow, and I feel my desire grow, my patience wearing threadbare. I lift my head long enough to gaze over his shuddering body, slick with sweat. He is defiant to the last, refusing to look at me, refusing to burn my skin with the touch of his demanding little fingers. 

His arousal is nearly palpable and the ice around his force of will is begging to be broken, shattered, along with the boy’s will to resist. My lips curl at the corners, and my hands wrap about my small master’s thighs. He wishes me not to speak; well then, I growl my impatience and nip his thighs with sharp little bites until his legs spread wider for me. 

He shivers and his hips buck, and I know perfectly well he wishes me to take him fully into my mouth. 

I am the devil, and I am also cruel. 

His taste is exquisite, he who fulfills me and drives me ever closer to the edge of madness with hunger... I savor his flavour, the slick salty fluid spilling over his heated skin. His head has begun to toss about on the pillow and I chuckle softly as I take my time, lapping at the tender skin at the base of his shaft. My fingers knead the skin of his thighs and lift him slightly off the bed. Finally, I envelop him with the mouth and … I am surprised at the sound that leaves his mouth. 

“Sebastian,” he says and it is soft and quiet and utterly beautiful. 

I swallow around him and to my surprise he spends, and I devour his offering as the greedy beast he likes to think I am. _And perhaps I am._

The boy grabs me by the shirt sleeve and pulls me up his quivering body.

“You bastard,” he breathes against my lips and then kisses me with impish tenacity, biting at my lips, but still his hands go back to his sides and tangle in the sheets. 

_Ah yes, it is my fault._ It is always my fault. My grin is nothing short of malevolent when the kiss breaks, and I almost think the boy can sense it, though his eyes remain tightly closed. He inhales sharply and turns his hands to the side as he resumes biting on his lip. I see. I pulls the gloves from my hands and trail my nails over his skin, across his chest, under his chin. His back is arching into my touch when I close my fingers over his sensitive niple and begin rolling it between my nails. He gasps, and I see scant traces of blood on his lips. My pupils narrow to slits, and I stop myself, my body trembling at its confusion with my hesitation. 

I could shatter my facade if I am not careful, lose my mask and carefully crafted illusion in the wake of this small mortal creature. I have plied him with oil, and slipped my fingers inside of him, thrusting until he is moaning softly in spite of himself. With a soft chuckle I slip free of his tight demanding sheath to pour more oil into my hand. Then I am coating my own throbbing length with oil, stroking myself in time with my little lord’s small heated cock.

He is hot and deliciously tight, squeezing around me as I slowly slide into him, and wrap his thighs about my waist. He is a beautiful sight with his back arched, and his hands clawing ruts into the mattress beneath him. I pause and his body quivers, urging me forward. I only stop for a moment before sliding almost entirely out, and then slowly rolling my hips and sheathing myself completely. It is then a moan leaves his lips and he opens those beautiful eyes to me. His blue eye is wide and piercing and accusatory even as it is darkened with desire and arousal. And oh... oh, his marred eye is blazing with such fierce light that I can see it pulse with each throb of his erection. 

“There…” he pants and his eyes never leave mine, and I can’t help but trap him in the bottomless pits of hellfire as I stare back at him. 

_Yes, that’s it, my Young Lord. Fall into me, fall apart_ … I repeat the process, increasing my pace with each thrust, and then my hand slides between us to wrap about his cock, hard and ready once more. 

It doesn’t take very long after that. He spends with such force that I groan with discomfort at how deftly he squeezes me. His eyes glaze over with pleasure and the name he baptized me with in darkness passes his lips in a submissive whisper. I spend, growling against his skin and dropping sharp nips and feather soft kisses against his collar bones.  
He pushes me from atop him, but it is a soft and slow gesture. I am pleasantly surprised when he curls against my side, and rests his head on my chest against my pocket watch. Those small hands finally slide across me and he slips one of them into my waistcoat, the other dropping between us with his fingers just brushing over my own. 

“I hate you,” he says softly.

My eyes glimmer in the darkness and I drop a kiss against his sweat-soaked hair. “I know,” I say in the darkness as I hear his breathing slow down in sleep. “I know.”


End file.
